Percy's Choice
by nonamegodofmorons
Summary: Percy says yes to Zeus's offer to become a god
1. Chapter 1

The Three Fates themselves took Luke's body.  
I hadn't seen the old ladies in years, since I'd witnessed them snip a life thread at a roadside fruit stand  
when I was twelve. They'd scared me then, and they scared me now—three ghoul-ish grandmothers with  
bags of knitting needles and yarn.  
One of them looked at me, and even though she didn't say anything, my life literally flashed before my  
eyes. Suddenly I was twenty. Then I was a middle-aged man. Then I turned old and withered. All the  
strength left my body, and I saw my own tombstone and an open grave, a coffin being lowered into the  
ground. All this happened in less than a second.  
It is done,she said.  
The Fate held up the snippet of blue yarn—and I knew it was the same one I'd seen four years ago, the  
lifeline I'd watched them snip. I had thought it was my life. Now I real-ized it was Luke's. They'd been  
showing me the life that would have to be sacrificed to set things right.  
They gathered up Luke's body, now wrapped in a white-and-green shroud, and began carrying it out of  
the throne room.  
"Wait," Hermes said.  
The messenger god was dressed in his classic outfit of white Greek robes, sandals, and helmet. The  
wings of his helm fluttered as he walked. The snakes George and Martha curled around his caduceus,  
murmuring,Luke, poor Luke.  
I thought about May Castellan, alone in her kitchen, baking cookies and making sandwiches for a son  
who would never come home.  
Hermes unwrapped Luke's face and kissed his fore-head. He murmured some words in Ancient  
Greek—a final blessing.  
"Farewell," he whispered. Then he nodded and allowed the Fates to carry away his son's body.  
As they left, I thought about the Great Prophecy. The lines now made sense to me. The hero's soul,  
cursed blade shall reap. The hero was Luke. The cursed blade was the knife he'd given Annabeth long  
ago—cursed because Luke had broken his promise and betrayed his friends. A single choice shall end  
his days. My choice, to give him the knife, and to believe, as Annabeth had, that he was still capable of  
setting things right. Olympus to preserve or raze. By sacrificing himself, he had saved Olympus. Rachel  
was right. In the end, I wasn't really the hero. Luke was.  
And I understood something else: When Luke had descended into the River Styx, he would've had to  
focus on something important that would hold him to his mortal life. Otherwise he would've dissolved. I  
had seen Annabeth, and I had a feeling he had too. He had pictured that scene Hestia showed me—of  
himself in the good old days with Thalia and Annabeth, when he promised they would be a family.  
Hurting Annabeth in battle had shocked him into remembering that promise. It had allowed his mortal  
con-science to take over again, and defeat Kronos. His weak spot—his Achilles heel—had saved us all.  
Next to me, Annabeth's knees buckled. I caught her, but she cried out in pain, and I realized I'd grabbed  
her broken arm.  
"Oh gods," I said. "Annabeth, I'm sorry."  
"It's all right," she said as she passed out in my arms.  
"She needs help!" I yelled.  
"I've got this." Apollo stepped forward. His fiery armor was so bright it was hard to look at, and his matching Ray Bans and perfect smile made him look like a male model for battle gear."God of medicine,  
at your service."  
He passed his hand over Annabeth's face and spoke an incantation. Immediately the bruises faded. Her  
cuts and scars disappeared. Her arm straightened, and she sighed in her sleep.  
Apollo grinned. "She'll be fine in a few minutes. Just enough time for me to compose a poem about our  
victory: 'Apollo and his friends save Olympus.'Good, eh?"  
"Thanks, Apollo," I said. "I'll, um, let you handle the poetry."  
The next few hours were a blur. I remembered my promise to my mother. Zeus didn't even blink an eye  
when I told him my strange request. He snapped his fingers and informed me that the top of the Empire  
State Building was now lit up blue. Most mortals would just have to wonder what it meant, but my mom  
would know: I had survived, Olympus was saved.  
The gods set about repairing the throne room, which went surprisingly fast with twelve superpowerful  
beings at work. Grover and I cared for the wounded, and once the sky bridge re-formed, we greeted  
our friends who had survived. The Cyclopes had saved Thalia from the fallen statue. She was on  
crutches, but otherwise she was okay. Connor and Travis Stoll had made it through with only minor  
injuries. They promised me they hadn't even looted the city much. They told me my parents were fine,  
though they weren't allowed into Mount Olympus. Mrs. O'Leary had dug Chiron out of the rubble and  
rushed him off to camp. The Stolls looked kind of worried about the old centaur, but at least he was  
alive. Katie Gardner reported that she'd seen Rachel Elizabeth Dare run out of the Empire State Building  
at the end of the battle. Rachel had looked unharmed, but nobody knew where she'd gone, which also  
troubled me.  
Nicodi Angelo came into Olympus to a hero's wel-come, his father right behind him, despite the fact that  
Hades was only supposed to visit Olympus on winter sol-stice. The god of the dead looked stunned  
when his relatives clapped him on the back. I doubt he'd ever gotten such an enthusiastic welcome  
before.  
Clarisse marched in, still shivering from her time in the ice block, and Ares bellowed, "There's my girl!"  
The god of war ruffled her hair and pounded her on the back, calling her the best warrior he'd ever seen.  
"That drakon-slaying? THAT'S what I'm talking about!"  
She looked pretty overwhelmed. All she could do was nod and blink, like she was afraid he'd start  
hitting her, but eventually she began to smile.  
Hera and Hephaestus passed me, and while Hephaestus was a little grumpy about my jumping on his  
throne, he thought I'd done "a pretty bang-up job, mostly."  
Hera sniffed in disdain. "I suppose I won't destroy you and that little girl now."  
"Annabeth saved Olympus," I told her. "She convinced Luke to stop Kronos."  
"Hmm," Hera whirled away in a huff, but I figured our lives would be safe, at least for a little while.  
Dionysus's head was still wrapped in a bandage. He looked me up and down and said, "Well, Percy  
Jackson. I see Pollux made it through, so I suppose you aren't com-pletely inept. It's all thanks to my  
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training, I suppose."  
"Urn, yes, sir," I said.  
Mr. D nodded. "As thanks for my bravery, Zeus has cut my probation at that miserable camp in half. I  
now have only fifty years left instead of one hundred."  
"Fifty years, huh?"I tried to imagine putting up with Dionysus until I was an old man, assuming I lived that  
long.  
"Don't get so excited, Jackson," he said, and I realized he was saying my name correctly. "I still plan on  
making your life miserable."  
I couldn't help smiling. "Naturally."  
"Just so we understand each other." He turned and began repairing his grapevine throne, which had been  
singed by fire.  
Grover stayed at my side. From time to time he would break down in tears. "So many nature spirits  
dead, Percy. Somany."  
I put my arm around his shoulders and gave him a rag to blow his nose. "You did a great job, G-man.  
Wewill come back from this. We'll plant new trees. We'll clean up the parks. Your friends will be  
reincarnated into a better world."  
He sniffled dejectedly. "I . . . I suppose. But it was hard enough to rally them before. I'm still an outcast.  
I could barely get anyone to listen to me about Pan. Now will they ever listen to me again? I led them into  
a slaughter."  
"They will listen," I promised."Because you care about them. You care about the Wild more than  
anyone."  
He tried for a smile. "Thanks, Percy. I hope . . . I hope you know I'm really proud to be your friend."  
I patted his arm. "Luke was right about one thing, G-man. You're the bravest satyr I ever met."  
He blushed, but before he could say anything, conch horns blew. The army of Poseidon marched into  
the throne room.  
"Percy!" Tyson yelled. He charged toward me with his arms open. Fortunately he'd shrunk back to  
normal size, so his hug was like getting hit by a tractor, not the entire farm.  
"You are not dead!" he said.  
"Yeah!"I agreed. "Amazing, huh?"  
He clapped his hands and laughed happily. "I am not dead either. Yay! We chained Typhon. It was fun!"  
Behind him, fifty other armored Cyclopes laughed and nodded and gave each other high fives.  
"Tyson led us," one rumbled. "He is brave!"  
"Bravest of the Cyclopes!" another bellowed.  
Tyson blushed. "Was nothing."  
"I saw you!" I said. "You were incredible!"  
I thought poor Grover would pass out. He's deathly afraid of Cyclopes. But he steeled his nerves and  
said, "Yes. Um . . . three cheers for Tyson!"  
"YAAARRRRR!" the Cyclopes roared.  
"Please don't eat me," Grover muttered, but I don't think anyone heard him.  
The conch horns blasted again. The Cyclopes parted, and my father strode into the throne room in his  
battle armor, his trident glowing in his hands.  
"Tyson!" he roared. "Well done, my son. And Percy—" His face turned stern. He wagged his finger at  
me, and for a second I was afraid he was going to zap me. "I even for-give you for sitting on my throne.  
You have saved Olympus!"  
He held out his arms and gave me a hug. Irealized , a lit-tle embarrassed, that I'd never actually hugged  
my dad before. He was warm—like a regular human—and he smelled of a salty beach and fresh sea air.  
When he pulled away, he smiled kindly at me. I felt so good, I'll admit I teared up a little. I guess until that  
moment I hadn't allowed myself to realize just how terrified I had been the last few days.  
"Dad—"  
"Shhh," he said. "No hero is above fear, Percy. And you have risen above every hero. Not even  
Hercules—"  
"POSEIDON!" a voice roared.  
Zeus had taken his throne. He glared across the room at my dad while all the other gods filed in and  
took their seats. Even Hades was present, sitting on a simple stone guest chair at the foot of the hearth.  
Nico sat cross-legged on the ground at his dad's feet.  
"Well, Poseidon?" Zeus grumped. "Are you too proud to join us in council, my brother?"  
I thought Poseidon was going to get mad, but he just looked at me and winked. "I would be honored,  
Lord Zeus."  
I guess miracles do happen. Poseidon strode over to his fishing seat, and the Olympian Council  
convened.  
While Zeus was talking—some long speech about the brav-ery of the gods, etc.—Annabeth walked in  
and stood next to me. She looked good for someone who'd recently passed out.  
"Miss much?" she whispered.  
"Nobody's planning to kill us, so far," I whispered back.  
"First time today."  
I cracked up, but Grover nudged me because Hera was giving us a dirty look.  
"As for my brothers," Zeus said, "we are thankful"—he cleared his throat like the words were hard to  
get out—"erm, thankful for the aid of Hades."  
The lord of the dead nodded. He had a smug look on his face, but I figure he'd earned the right. He  
patted his son Nico on the shoulders, and Nico looked happier than I'd ever seen him.  
"And, of course," Zeus continued, though he looked like his pants were smoldering, "we must . . . um . .  
. thank Poseidon."  
"I'm sorry, brother," Poseidon said. "What was that?"  
"We must thank Poseidon," Zeus growled. "Without whom . . . it would've been difficult—"  
"Difficult?" Poseidon asked innocently.  
"Impossible," Zeus said. "Impossible to defeat Typhon."  
The gods murmured agreement and pounded their weapons in approval.  
" Which leaves us," Zeus said, "only the matter of thank-ing our young demigod heroes, who defended  
Olympus so well—even if there are a few dents in my throne. "  
He called Thalia forward first, since she was his daugh-ter, and promised her help in filling the Hunters'  
ranks.  
Artemis smiled. "You have done well, my lieutenant. You have made me proud, and all those Hunters  
who per-ished in my service will never be forgotten. Theywill achieve Elysium, I am sure."  
She glared pointedly at Hades.  
He shrugged. "Probably."  
Artemis glared at him some more.  
"Okay," Hades grumbled. "I'll streamline their applica-tion process."  
Thalia beamed with pride. "Thank you, my lady." She bowed to the gods, even Hades, and then limped  
over to stand by Artemis's side.  
"Tyson, son of Poseidon!"Zeus called. Tyson looked nervous, but he went to stand in the middle of the  
Council, and Zeus grunted.  
"Doesn't miss many meals, does he?" Zeus muttered. "Tyson, for your bravery in the war, and for leading the Cyclopes, you are appointed a general in the armies of Olympus. You shall henceforth lead  
your brethren into war whenever required by the gods. And you shall have a new . . . um . . . what kind  
of weapon would you like?A sword? An axe?"  
"Stick!" Tyson said, showing his broken club.  
"Very well," Zeus said. "We will grant you a new, er, stick. The best stick that may be found."  
"Hooray!" Tyson cried, and all the Cyclopes cheered and pounded him on the back as he rejoined them.  
"Grover Underwood of the satyrs!" Dionysus called.  
Grover came forward nervously.  
"Oh, stop chewing your shirt," Dionysus chided. "Honestly, I'm not going to blast you. For your bravery  
and sacrifice, blah, blah, blah, and since we have an unfortunate vacancy, the gods have seen fit to name  
you a member of the Council of Cloven Elders."  
Grover collapsed on the spot.  
"Oh, wonderful," Dionysus sighed, as several naiads came forward to help Grover. "Well, when he  
wakes up, someone tell him that he will no longer be an outcast, and that all satyrs, naiads, and other  
spirits of nature will hence-forth treat him as a lord of the Wild, with all rights, privi-leges, and honors,  
blah, blah, blah. Now please, drag him off before he wakes up and starts groveling."  
"FOOOOOD," Grover moaned, as the nature spirits carried him away.  
I figured he'd be okay. He would wake up as a lord of the Wild with a bunch of beautiful naiads taking  
care of him. Life could be worse.  
Athena called, "Annabeth Chase, my own daughter."  
Annabeth squeezed my arm, then walked forward and knelt at her mother's feet.  
Athena smiled. "You, my daughter, have exceeded all expectations. You have used your wits, your  
strength, and your courage to defend this city, and our seat of power. It has come to our attention that  
Olympus is . . . well, trashed. The Titan lord did much damage that will have to be repaired. We could  
rebuild it by magic, of course, and make it just as it was. But the gods feel that the city could be  
improved. We will take this as an opportunity. And you, my daughter, will design these improvements."  
Annabeth looked up, stunned. "My . . . my lady?"  
Athena smiled wryly. "You are an architect, are you not? You have studied the techniques of Daedalus  
himself. Who better to redesign Olympus and make it a monument that will last for another eon?"  
"You mean . . . I can design whatever I want?"  
"As your heart desires," the goddess said. "Make us a city for the ages."  
"As long as you have plenty of statues of me," Apollo added.  
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"And me," Aphrodite agreed.  
"Hey, and me!"Ares said. "Big statues with huge wicked swords and—"  
"All right!"Athena interrupted. "She gets the point. Rise, my daughter, official architect of Olympus."  
Annabeth rose in a trance and walked back toward me.  
"Way to go," I told her, grinning.  
For once she was at a loss for words. "I'll . . . I'll have to start planning . . . Drafting paper, and, um,  
pencils—"  
"PERCY JACKSON!"Poseidon announced. My name echoed around the chamber.  
All talking died down. The room was silent except for the crackle of the hearth fire. Everyone's eyes  
were on me—all the gods, the demigods, the Cyclopes, the spirits. I walked into the middle of the throne  
room. Hestia smiled at me reassuringly. She was in the form of a girl now, and she seemed happy and  
content to be sitting by her fire again. Her smile gave me courage to keep walking.  
First I bowed to Zeus. Then I knelt at my father's feet.  
"Rise, my son," Poseidon said.  
I stood uneasily.  
"A great hero must be rewarded," Poseidon said. "Is there anyone here who would deny that my son is  
deserving ?"  
I waited for someone to pipe up. The gods never agreed on anything, and many of them still didn't like  
me, but not a single one protested.  
"The Council agrees," Zeus said. "Percy Jackson, you will have one gift from the gods."  
I hesitated. "Any gift?"  
Zeus nodded grimly. "I know what you will greatest gift of all. Yes, if you want it, it shall be  
yours. The gods have not bestowed this gift on a mortal hero in many centuries, but, Perseus Jackson—if  
you wish it—you shall be made a . Undying. You shall serve as your father's lieutenant for all  
time."  
I stared at him, stunned. "Um . . . a god?"  
Zeus rolled his eyes. "A dimwitted god, apparently. But yes. With the consensus of the entire Council, I  
can make you immortal. Then I will have to put up with you forever."  
"Hmm," Ares mused. "That means I can smash him to a pulp as often as I want, and he'll just keep  
coming back for more. I like this idea."  
"I approve as well," Athena said, though she was look-ing at Annabeth.  
I glanced back. Annabeth gave me an encouraging smile and nodded her head.  
I thought about the Three Fates, and the way I'd seen my life flash by. I could avoid all that. No aging,  
no death, no body in the grave. I could be a teenager forever, in top condition, powerful, and immortal,  
serving my father. I could have power and eternal life. Who could refuse that?  
Then I looked at Annabeth again. And I made my decision. And then, I said yes.  
Then Zeus said "all mortals leave the throne room now. All the campers left, not wanting to be turned into a pile of ashes. Then, Zeus started chanting in Ancient Greek, faster than I could follow. I felt a golden glow surround me. With it came  
a feeling of power. And suddenly the 3 fates appeared and said Perseus Jackson you are now the god of tides, swordsmanship, heroes, and time. To say I was stunned would be and understatement. Then Zeus yelled/said "you can't make him that powerful".  
"Unless you make him an Olympian" my dad finished. "I suppose . . ." Zeus said.  
"All in favor," Hermes said.  
All the gods raised their hands.  
"Um, thanks," I said.  
I turned, but before I could leave,  
"But who will train him" Poseidon said. "I will" Hermes said, while standing up.  
Hermes then called to me and said, "tomorrow at 8:00 a you start your training at my palace".  
Then I turned once more to leave. When Poseidon called, "Honor guard! "Immediately the Cyclopes came forward and made two lines from the thrones to the door—an aisle for  
me to walk through. They came to attention. "All hail, Perseus Jackson" Tyson said."Hero of Olympus, god of tides, swordsmanship, heroes, time . . . and my big brother!"


	2. Blackjack Gets Jacked

Annabeth and I were on our way out when I spotted Hermes in a side courtyard of the palace. He was  
staring at an Iris-message in the mist of a fountain.  
I glanced at Annabeth. "I'll meet you at the elevator."  
"You sure?" Then she studied my face. "Yeah, you're sure."  
Hermes didn't seem to notice me approach. The Iris-message images were going so fast I could hardly  
understand them. Mortal newscasts from all over the country flashed by: scenes of Typhon's destruction,  
the wreckage our battle had left across Manhattan, the president doing a news con-ference, the mayor of  
New York, some army vehicles riding down the Avenue of the Americas.  
"Amazing," Hermes murmured. He turned toward me. "Three thousand years, and I will never get over  
the power of the Mist . . . and mortal ignorance."  
Hermes looked at me curiously,then returned his attention to the Iris-message. "Look at them. They've  
already decided Typhon was a freak series of storms. Don't I wish. They haven't figured out how all the  
statues in Lower Manhattan got removed from their pedestals and hacked to pieces. They keep showing  
a shot of Susan B. Anthony strangling Frederick Douglass. But I imagine they'll even come up with a  
logical explanation for that."  
"How bad is the city?"  
Hermes shrugged."Surprisingly, not too bad. The mortals are shaken, of course. But this is New York.  
I've never seen such a resilient bunch of humans. I imagine they'll be back to normal in a few weeks; and  
of course I'll be helping."  
"You?"  
"I'm the messenger of the gods. It's my job to monitor what the mortals are saying, and if necessary, help  
them make sense of what's happened. I'll reassure them. Trust me, they'll put this down to a freak earthquake or a solar flare. Anything but the truth."  
He sounded bitter. George and Martha curled around his caduceus, but they were silent, which made  
me think that Hermes was really really angry. I probably should've kept quiet, but I said, "I owe you an  
apology."  
Hermes gave me a cautious look. "And why is that?"  
"I thought you were a bad father," I admitted. "I thought you abandoned Luke because you knew his  
future and didn't do anything to stop it."  
"I did know his future," Hermes said miserably.  
"But you knew more than just the bad stuff—that he'd turn evil. You understood what he would do in  
the end. You knew he'd make the right choice. But you couldn't tell him, could you?"  
Hermes stared at the fountain. "No one can tamper with fate, Percy, not even a god. If I had warned him  
what was to come, or tried to influence his choices, I would've made things even worse. Staying silent,  
staying away from him . . . that was the hardest thing I've ever done."  
"You had to let him find his own path," I said, "and play his part in saving Olympus."  
Hermes sighed. "I should not have gotten mad at Annabeth. When Luke visited her in San Francisco . . .  
well, I knew she would have a part to play in his fate. I foresaw that much. I thought perhaps she could  
do what I could not and save him. When she refused to go with him, I could barely contain my rage. I  
should have known better. I was really angry with myself."  
"Annabeth did save him," I said. "Luke died a hero. He sacrificed himself to kill Kronos."  
"I appreciate your words, Percy. But Kronos isn't dead. You can't kill a Titan."  
"Then—"  
"I don't know," Hermes grumbled. "None of us do. Blown to to the wind. With luck, he's  
spread so thin that he'll never be able to form a consciousness again, much less a body. But don't mistake  
him for dead, Percy."  
My stomach did a queasy somersault. "What about the other Titans?"  
"In hiding," Hermes said. "Prometheus sent Zeus a message with a bunch of excuses for supporting  
Kronos . 'I was just trying to minimize the damage,' blah, blah. He'll keep his head low for a few centuries  
if he's smart. Krios has fled, and this may seem like a shock to you but. In San Francisco there is a camp full of Roman demigods called camp jupiter. And they destroyed mt. Othrys. To say I was extremely stunned would be an understatement. So, Oceanus  
slipped back into the  
deep ocean when it was clear Kronos had lost. Meanwhile, my son Luke is dead. He died believ-ing I  
didn't care about him. I will never forgive myself."  
Hermes slashed his caduceus through the mist. The Iris-picture disappeared.  
"A long time ago," I said, "you told me the hardest thing about being a god was not being able to help  
your children. You also told me that you couldn't give up on your family, no matter how tempting they  
made it."  
"And now you know I'm a hypocrite?"  
"No, you were right, Luke loved you. At the end, he realized his fate. I think he realized why you  
couldn't help him. He remembered what was important."  
"Too late for him and me."  
"You have other children. Honor Luke by recognizing them. All the gods can do that."  
Hermes's shoulders sagged. "They'll try, Percy. Oh, we'll all try to keep our promise. And maybe for a  
while things will get better. But we gods have never been good at keeping oaths. You were born because  
of a broken promise, eh? Eventually we'll become forgetful. We always do."  
"You can change."  
Hermes laughed. "After three thousand years, you think the gods can change their nature?"  
"Yeah," I said. "I do."  
Hermes seemed surprised by that. "You think . . . Luke actually loved me?After all that happened?"  
"I'm sure of it."  
Hermes stared at the fountain. "I'll give you a list of my children. There's a boy in Wisconsin. Two girls in  
Los Angeles. A few others. Will you see that they get to camp?"  
"I promise," I said. "And I won't forget."  
George and Martha twirled around the caduceus. I know snakes can't smile, but they seemed to be  
trying.  
"Percy Jackson," Hermes said, "you might just teach us a thing or two."

Another god was waiting for me on the way out of Olympus. Athena stood in the middle of the road  
with her arms crossed and a look on her face that made me think Uh-oh. She'd changed out of her  
armor, into jeans and a white blouse, but she didn't look any less warlike. Her gray eyes blazed.  
"Well, Percy," she said. "You have become a god.  
"Um, yes, ma'am."  
"Spare me." Athena stepped close to me, and I could feel her aura of power making my skin itch. "I  
once warned you, Percy Jackson, that to save a friend you would destroy the world. Perhaps I was  
mistaken. You seem to have saved both your friends and the world. But think very carefully about how  
you proceed from here. I have given you the benefit of the doubt. Don't mess up."  
Just to prove her point, she erupted in a column of flame, charring the front of my shirt.

Annabeth was waiting for me at the elevator. "Why do you smell like smoke?"  
"Long story," I said. Together we made our way down to the street level. Neither of us said a word. The  
music was awful—Neil Diamond or something.  
When we got into the lobby, I found my mother and Paul arguing with the bald security guy, who'd  
returned to his post.  
"I'm telling you," my mom yelled, "wehave to go up! My son—" Then she saw me and her eyes  
widened. "Percy!"  
She hugged the breath right out of me.  
"We saw the building lit up blue," she said. "But then you didn't come down. You went up hours ago!"  
"She was getting a bit anxious," Paul said drily.  
"I'm all right," I promised as my mom hugged Annabeth. "Everything's okay now."  
"Mr. Blofis," Annabeth said, "that was wicked sword work."  
Paul shrugged. "It seemed like the thing to do. But Percy, is this really . . . I mean, this story about the six  
hundredth floor?"  
"Olympus," I said."Yeah."  
Paul looked at the ceiling with a dreamy expression. "I'd like to see that."  
"Paul," my mom chided. "It's not for mortals. Anyway, the important thing is we're safe. All of us."  
I was about to relax. Everything felt perfect. Annabeth and I were okay. My mom and Paul had  
survived. Olympus was saved.  
But the life of a demigod is never so easy. Just then Nico ran in from the street, and his face told me  
something was wrong.  
"It's Rachel," he said. "I just ran into her down on 32nd Street."  
Annabeth frowned. "What's she done this time?"  
"It's where she's gone," Nico said. "I told her she would die if she tried, but she insisted. She just took  
Blackjack and—"  
"She took my pegasus?" I demanded.  
Nico nodded. "She's heading to Half-Blood Hill. She said she had to get to camp."


	3. I am dumped

Nobody steals my pegasus . Not even Rachel. I wasn't sure if I was more angry or amazed or worried.  
"What was she thinking?" Annabeth said as we ran for the river. Unfortunately, I had a pretty good idea,  
and it filled me with dread.  
The traffic was horrible. Everybody was out on the streets gawking at the war zone damage. Police  
sirens wailed on every block. There was no possibility of catching a cab, and the pegasi had flown away.  
I would've settled for some Party Ponies, but they had disappeared along with most of the root beer in  
Midtown. So we ran, pushing through mobs of dazed mortals that clogged the sidewalks.  
"She'll never get through the defenses," Annabeth said. "Peleus will eat her."  
I hadn't considered that. The Mist wouldn't fool Rachel like it would most people. She'd be able to find  
the camp no problem, but I'd been hoping the magical boundaries would just keep her out like a force  
field. It hadn't occurred to me that Peleus might attack.  
"We've got to hurry." I glanced at Nico. "I don't suppose you could conjure up some skeleton horses."  
He wheezed as he ran. "So tired . . . couldn't summon a dog bone."  
Finally we scrambled over the embankment to the shore, and I let out a loud whistle. I hated doing it.  
Even with the sand dollar I'd given the East River for a magic cleaning, the water here was pretty  
polluted. I didn't want to make any sea animals sick, but they came to my call.  
Three wake lines appeared in the gray water, and a pod of hippocampi broke the surface. They  
whinnied unhappily, shaking the river muck from their manes. They were beauti-ful creatures, with  
multicolored fish tails, and the heads and forelegs of white stallions. The hippocampus in front was much  
bigger than the others—a ride fit for a Cyclops.  
"Rainbow!" I called. "How's it going, buddy?"  
He neighed a complaint.  
"Yeah, I'm sorry," I said. "But it's an emergency. We need to get to camp."  
He snorted.  
"Tyson?" I said. "Tyson is fine! I'm sorry he's not here. He's a big general now in the Cyclops army."  
"NEEEEIGGGGH!"  
"Yeah, I'm sure he'll still bring you apples. Now, about that ride . . ."  
In no time, Annabeth, Nico, and I were zipping up the East River faster than Jet Skis. We sped under  
the Throgs Neck Bridge and headed for Long Island Sound.

It seemed like forever until we saw the beach at camp. We thanked the hippocampi and waded ashore,  
only to find Argus waiting for us. He stood in the sand with his arms crossed, his hundred eyes glaring at  
us.  
"Is she here?" I asked.  
He nodded grimly.  
"Is everything okay?" Annabeth said.  
Argus shook his head.  
We followed him up the trail. It was surreal being back at camp, because everything looked so peaceful:  
no burning buildings, no wounded fighters. The cabins were bright in the sunshine, and the fields glittered  
with dew. But the place was mostly empty.  
Up at the Big House, something was definitely wrong. Green light was shooting out all the windows, just  
like I'd seen in my dream about May Castellan. Mist—the magical kind—swirled around the yard.  
Chiron lay on a horse-size stretcher by the volleyball pit, a bunch of satyrs standing around him.  
Blackjack cantered nervously in the grass.  
Don't blame me, boss! he pleaded when he saw me. The weird girl made me do it!  
Rachel Elizabeth Dare stood at the bottom of the porch steps. Her arms were raised like she was  
waiting for someone inside the house to throw her a ball.  
"What's she doing?" Annabeth demanded. "How did she get past the barriers?"  
"She flew," one of the satyrs said, looking accusingly at Blackjack."Right past the dragon, right through  
the magic boundaries."  
"Rachel!" I called, but the satyrs stopped me when I tried to go any closer.  
"Percy, don't," Chiron warned. He winced as he tried to move. His left arm was in a sling, his two back  
legs were in splints, and his head was wrapped in bandages. "You can't interrupt."  
"I thought you explained things to her!"  
"I did. And I invited her here."  
I stared at him in disbelief. "You said you'd never let anyone try again! You said—"  
"I know what I said, Percy. But I was wrong. Rachel had a vision about the curse of Hades. She  
believes it may be lifted now. She convinced me she deserves a chance."  
"And if the curse isn't lifted? If Hades hasn't gotten to that yet, she'll go crazy!"  
The Mist swirled around Rachel. She shivered like she was going into shock.  
"Hey!" I shouted. "Stop!"  
I ran toward her, ignoring the satyrs. I got within ten feet and hit something like an invisible beach ball. I  
bounced back and landed in the grass.  
Rachel opened her eyes and turned. She looked like she was sleepwalking—like she could see me, but  
only in a dream.  
"It's all right." Her voice sounded far away. "This is why I've come."  
"You'll be destroyed!"  
She shook her head. "This is where I belong, Percy. I finally understand why."  
It sounded too much like what May Castellan had said. I had to stop her, but I couldn't even get to my  
feet.  
The house rumbled. The door flew open and green light poured out. I recognized the warm musty smell  
of snakes.  
Mist curled into a hundred smoky serpents, slithering up the porch columns, curling around the house.  
Then the Oracle appeared in the doorway.  
The withered mummy shuffled forward in her rainbow dress. She looked even worse than usual, which is  
saying a lot. Her hair was falling out in clumps. Her leathery skin was cracking like the seat of a worn-out  
bus. Her glassy eyes stared blankly into space, but I got the creepiest feeling she was being drawn  
straight toward Rachel.  
Rachel held out her arms. She didn't look scared.  
"You've waited too long," Rachel said. "But I'm here now."  
The sun blazed more brightly. A man appeared above the porch, floating in the air—a blond dude in a  
white toga, with sunglasses and a cocky smile.  
"Apollo," I said.  
He winked at me but held up his finger to his lips.  
"Rachel Elizabeth Dare," he said. "You have the gift of prophecy. But it is also a curse. Are you sure you  
want this?"  
Rachel nodded. "It's my destiny."  
"Do you accept the risks?"  
"I do."  
"Then proceed," the god said.  
Rachel closed her eyes. "I accept this role. I pledge myself to Apollo, God of Oracles. I open my eyes  
to the future and embrace the past. I accept the spirit of Delphi, Voice of the Gods, Speaker of Riddles,  
Seer of Fate."  
I didn't know where she was getting the words, but they flowed out of her as the Mist thickened. A  
green column of smoke, like a huge python, uncoiled from the mummy's mouth and slithered down the  
stairs, curling affectionately around Rachel's feet. The Oracle's mummy crumbled, falling away until it was  
nothing but a pile of dust in an old tie-dyed dress. Mist enveloped Rachel in a column.  
For a moment I couldn't see her at all. Then the smoke cleared.  
Rachel collapsed and curled into the fetal position. Annabeth, Nico, and I rushed forward, but Apollo  
said, "Stop! This is the most delicate part."  
"What's going on?" I demanded. "What do you mean?"  
Apollo studied Rachel with concern. "Either the spirit takes hold, or it doesn't."  
"And if it doesn't?" Annabeth asked.  
"Five syllables," Apollo said, counting them on his fin-gers."That would be real bad."  
Despite Apollo's warning, I ran forward and knelt over Rachel. The smell of the attic was gone. The  
Mist sank into the ground and the green light faded. But Rachel was still pale. She was barely breathing.  
Then her eyes fluttered open. She focused on me with difficulty. "Percy."  
"Are you okay?"  
She tried to sit up. "Ow." She pressed her hands to her temples.  
"Rachel," Nico said, "your life aura almost faded completely. I could see you dying."  
"I'm all right," she murmured. "Please, help me up. The visions—they're a little disorienting."  
"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked.  
Apollo drifted down from the porch. "Ladies and gen-tlemen, may I introduce the new Oracle of Delphi."  
"You're kidding," Annabeth said.  
Rachel managed a weak smile. "It's a little surprising to me too, but this is my fate. I saw it when I was in  
New York. I know why I was born with true sight. I was meant to become the Oracle."  
I blinked. "You mean you can tell the future now?"  
"Not all the time," she said. "But there are visions, images, words in my mind. When someone asks me a  
ques-tion, I . . . Oh no—"  
"It's starting," Apollo announced.  
Rachel doubled over like someone had punched her. Then she stood up straight and her eyes glowed  
serpent green.  
When she spoke, her voicesounded tripled—like three Rachels were talking at once:  
"Seven half-bloods shall answer the call.  
To storm or fire, the world must fall.  
An oath to keep with a final breath,  
And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death."  
At the last word, Rachel collapsed. Nico and I caught her and helped her to the porch. Her skin was  
feverish.  
"I'm all right," she said, her voice returning to normal.  
"What was that?" I asked.  
She shook her head, confused. "What was what?"  
"I believe," Apollo said, "that we just heard the next Great Prophecy."  
"What does it mean?" I demanded.  
Rachel frowned. "I don't even remember what I said."  
"No," Apollo mused. "The spirit will only speak through you occasionally. The rest of the time, our  
Rachel will be much as she's always been. There's no point in grilling her, even if she has just issued the  
next big prediction for the future of the world."  
I thought about the lines Rachel had spoken in that creepy voice: about storm and fire and the Doors of  
Death. "Maybe," I said, "but it didn't sound so good."  
"No," said Apollo cheerfully. "It certainly didn't. She's going to make a wonderful Oracle!"

It was hard to drop the subject, but Apollo insisted that Rachel needed to rest, and she did look pretty  
disoriented.  
"I'm sorry, Percy," she said. "Back on Olympus, I didn't explain everything to you, but the calling  
frightened me. I didn't think you'd understand."  
"I still don't," I admitted. "But I guess I'm happy for you."  
Rachel smiled. "Happy probably isn't the right word. Seeing the future isn't going to be easy, but it's my  
destiny. I only hope my family . . ."  
She didn't finish her thought.  
"Will you still go to Clarion Academy?" I asked.  
"I made a promise to my father. I guess I'll try to be a normal kid during the school year, but—"  
"But right now you need sleep," Apollo scolded. "Chiron, I don't think the attic is the proper place for  
our new Oracle, do you?"  
"No, indeed." Chiron looked a lot better now that Apollo had worked some medical magic on him.  
"Rachel may use a guest room in the Big House for now, until we give the matter more thought."  
"I'm thinking a cave in the hills," Apollo mused. "With torches and a big purple curtain over the entrance .  
. . really mysterious. But inside, a totally decked-out pad with a game room and one of those home  
theater systems."  
Chiron cleared his throat loudly.  
"What?" Apollo demanded.  
Rachel kissed me on the cheek. "Good-bye, Percy," she whispered. "And I don't have to see the future  
to tell you what to do now, do I?"  
Her eyes seemed more piercing than before.  
I blushed. "No."  
"Good," she said. Then she turned and followed Apollo into the Big House.  
The rest of the day was as strange as the beginning. Campers trickled in from New York by car, pegasus  
, and chariot. The wounded were cared for. The dead were given proper funeral rites at the campfire.  
Silena's shroud was hot pink, but embroidered with an electric spear. The Ares and Aphrodite cabins  
both claimed her as a hero, and lit the shroud together. No one men-tioned the word spy. That secret  
burned to ashes as the designer perfume smoke drifted into the sky.  
Even Ethan Nakamura was given a shroud—black silk with a logo of swords crossed under a set of  
scales. As his shroud went up in flames, I hoped Ethan knew he had made a difference in the end. He'd  
paid a lot more than an eye, but the minor gods would finally get the respect they deserved.  
Dinner at the pavilion was low-key. The only highlight was Juniper the tree nymph, who screamed,  
"Grover!" and gave her boyfriend a flying tackle hug, making everybody cheer. They went down to the  
beach to take a moonlit walk, and I was happy for them, though the scene reminded me of Silena and  
Beckendorf, which made me sad.  
Mrs. O'Leary romped around happily, eating every-body's table scraps. Nico sat at the main table with  
Chiron and Mr. D, and nobody seemed to think this was out of place. Everybody was patting Nico on  
the back, complimenting him on his fighting. Even the Ares kids seemed to think he was pretty cool.  
Hey, show up with an army of undead warriors to save the day, and suddenly you're every-body's best  
friend.  
Slowly, the dinner crowd trickled away. Some went to the campfire for a sing-along. Others went to  
bed. I sat at the Poseidon table by myself and watched the moonlight on Long Island Sound. I could see  
Grover and Juniper at the beach, holding hands and talking. It was peaceful.  
"Hey." Annabeth slid next to me on the bench. "Happy birthday."  
She was holding a huge misshapen cupcake with blue icing.  
I stared at her. "What?"  
"It's August 18th," she said. "Your birthday, right?"  
I was stunned. It hadn't even occurred to me, but she was right. I had turned sixteen this morning—the  
same morning I'd made the choice to give Luke the knife. The prophecy had come true right on schedule,  
and I hadn't even thought about the fact that it was my birthday.  
"Make a wish," she said.  
"Did you bake this yourself?" I asked.  
"Tyson helped."  
"That explains why it looks like a chocolate brick," I said. "With extra blue cement."  
Annabeth laughed.  
I thought for a second, then blew out the candle.  
We cut it in half and shared, eating with our fingers. Annabeth sat next to me, and we watched the  
ocean. Crickets and monsters were making noise in the woods, but otherwise it was quiet.  
"You saved the world," she said.  
"We saved the world."  
"And Rachel is the new Oracle, which means she won't be dating anybody."  
"You don't sound disappointed," I noticed.  
Annabeth shrugged. "Oh, I don't care."  
"Uh-huh."  
She raised an eyebrow. "You got something to say to me, Seaweed Brain?"  
"You'd probably kick my butt."  
"You know I'd kick your butt."  
I brushed the cake off my hands. "When I was at the River Styx, turning invulnerable . . . Nico said I had  
to concentrate on one thing that kept me anchored to the world, that made me want to stay mortal."  
Annabeth kept her eyes on the horizon."Yeah?"  
"Oh, you so wanted to."  
So what now? Annabeth asked.  
What do you mean? I replied. What are "us"? now that you are a god. I shrugged and said I don't know.  
"You are so not making this easy."  
Then she laughed for real, and she put her hands around my neck. "I am never, ever going to make things  
easy for you, Seaweed Brain. Get used to it."  
When she kissed me, I had the feeling my brain was melting right through my body.  
I could've stayed that way forever, except a voice behind us growled, "Well, it's about time!"  
Suddenly the pavilion was filled with torchlight and campers. Clarisse led the way as the eavesdroppers  
charged and hoisted us both onto their shoulders.  
"Oh, come on!" I complained. "Is there no privacy?"  
"The lovebirds need to cool off!" Clarisse said with glee.  
"The canoe lake!" Connor Stoll shouted.  
With a huge cheer, they carried us down the hill, but they kept us close enough to hold hands. Annabeth  
was laughing, and I couldn't help laughing too, even though my face was completely red.  
We held hands right up to the moment they dumped us in the water.  
Afterward, I had the last laugh. I made an air bubble at the bottom of the lake. Our friends kept waiting  
for us to come up, but hey—when you're the son of Poseidon, you don't have to hurry.  
And it was pretty much the best underwater kiss of all time.


End file.
